


Blossom

by miceenscene



Series: Shakarian - A Descent into Madness [15]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Mass Effect 2, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 07:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20774990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miceenscene/pseuds/miceenscene
Summary: Based on the prompt: 'I’ve read a few fics where Shepard gets ~sex pollen’d~ but like. What about a fic where Garrus gets sex pollen’d? Caveat: he doesn’t go all primal beast or whatever. He’s gotta be a begging mess.'





	Blossom

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to shepgarrus on tumblr for the prompt.

“Ah, Feros. I did not miss you,” Shepard grumbled as she struggled to pull her foot out of the mud pit it’d sunk into. She frowned down at the oddly red mud now coating up to her mid-calf.

“I don’t remember it smelling this bad last time we were here,” Garrus said, offering her a hand and hauling her up. She smiled up at him before continuing on their slow trek through the Feros wilderness.

“According to EDI, last time we were here in winter. And it’s spring now, everything’s blooming. Besides, last time we didn’t leave the cities.”

“Remind me again why someone else couldn’t have done this job?” Garrus drawled, moving a branch with wide pink leaves out of his way. Shepard was lucky enough to be able to just walk right under most of the plant life. He’d point it out if telling his best friend and commander she was short wasn’t the surest way to ruin her mood. 

“Oh, you know. The usual ‘Only You Can Do This, Shepard’ plea.” Shepard stowed her gun to haul herself up onto a tall boulder. She turned to offer him a hand. “Plus, I figure staying in the good graces of the Alliance as much as I can has to pay off in the long run.”

“It better for all the work we’re doing for them,” he grumbled as she pulled him up. They stopped as they both realized they’d reached a vista; Feros spread out beneath them, verdant and lush. Mountains surrounded the vast green valley, gentle peaks under a cloudy sky. “This almost makes up for the smell. Almost.”

Shepard grinned and pointed to a mountaintop in the distance. “The base should be near that ridge.” 

It was a very simple job, so simple and straightforward Shepard hadn’t even bothered bringing a third on their ground team. Not that Garrus minded at all; there’d hardly been time to breathe let alone talk to each other lately. Half of him really wanted to get some clarification on whether she was truly on board for the whole ‘blowing off steam’ idea she’d proposed just the week before. The other half of him was smart enough to not ruin this uncommon stroke of good luck and didn’t want to touch that topic with a ten foot pole.

“It’s times like these that I miss the Mako,” he sighed, noting the distance between them and their target. 

Shepard laughed. “I’ll remind you of that the next time you tell that story about when I drove it off a cliff.” She sat down and dropped off the ridge back to the jungle floor again.

“Alright, maybe I don’t miss it. But it would make this hike take less time.” He hopped down next to her. 

She took her stance, the cocky one with her arms crossed and a knowing grin on her face. He liked that stance… of course there were a lot of things he liked about her, if he was honest with himself. Which he wasn’t often. “If you want to try driving through these trees or finding a closer LZ, be my guest,  _ Archangel _ ,” she taunted with a smile.

Now he chuckled. “Hm, Archangel wouldn’t go within five klicks of this planet to begin with.”

“More of a city dweller, is he?”

“Exclusively.” He folded his arms and took on a superior tone. “Doesn’t drag his friends to Noveria and jungle planets and  _ Tuchanka _ .”

She nodded a little. “Oh, I see. So next time I’m going somewhere dangerous and exciting, I  _ shouldn’t _ bring you. Got it.” She turned and started walking away.

“Don’t you dare,” he warned, jogging to catch up with her.

She smiled at him, a simple gesture that still made his heart squeeze in response. “That’s what I thought.” 

It’d been raining most of the morning and the ground was wet and slick beneath their boots. Shepard carefully started making her way down the steep slope of the mountain. He followed beside her, both of them holding their arms out to balance better. 

However, Garrus misjudged his step and lost his footing, slipping onto his back. The loose mud and leaves under him had no traction and he rapidly started to slide down the mountainside, gaining speed as he went. Luckily it wasn’t a long fall, but he wound up flopping face first into a wide patch of blue flowering plants as he stopped.

“Garrus!” Shepard yelled. He looked up to see her sliding down the mountain as well, though she was still on her feet and in control. Her worried expression dissolved into a wide smile and a laugh as she saw him. “Oh, Garrus. You are… covered in pollen.”

His blue armor was more green now, the Archangel sigil had disappeared from his arm under the new coloration. He grumbled and pulled himself back to standing, trying to dust off the worst parts and succeeding only in making the air around him a pale yellow.

She offered him a hand. He smirked at her. Taking her hand, he pulled her into the flower patch as well. Another cloud of yellow pollen puffed up as she fell in face first. She sat up, an obvious tirade on her lips, but then her face contorted and she made the strangest sound. 

“What was  _ that _ ?” he asked, eyes wide. 

Shepard held up a finger, her eyes hovering almost closed, and then made the noise again, her whole body convulsing. “A sneeze,” she finally managed before ‘sneezing’ again. He’d thought that by now surely he had reached the bottom of the Strange Human Things Well, but apparently not. “Do turians not sneeze?”

He shook his head and helped her up as she sneezed again. She closed her eyes before shaking out her hair, sending more yellow dust flying.

“What do you do when stuff gets in your nose?” she asked before sneezing louder than before.

“We don’t get stuff in our noses in the first place,” he said, smirking at her again. “Superior evolution and all.”

She rolled her eyes and then sneezed one last time. “Ugh, hate sneezing,” she said, sniffling a little. “Alright, back to business.”

They fell into step with each other as they continued to make their way through the jungle. As the day wore on, Garrus felt the temperature continue to rise. The air was already thick and humid. And now combined with the heat it was getting downright unbearable. By the early afternoon, he had long since finished his water and his backup hydra-gels.

When they found a large cave, they decided to stop for a midday meal. Shepard dropped her pack and sat down just inside the entrance as another rainstorm started up. Usually she would sweat at the temperatures he was feeling, but she didn’t look sweaty to him. She looked perfectly peaceful, maybe even happy, as she chewed on her MRE and looked out at the colorful plantlife.

Even though it probably wasn’t the best choice tactically, Garrus was starting to feel a little desperate. He pulled off his gauntlets and chest plate, tossing them to the side. He pulled his undersuit half-open and breathed in deep the cooler air in the cave, seeking relief and finding very little.

“I wasn’t planning on staying here that long,” Shepard commented. His eyes were closed but he could hear the raised eyebrow in her voice. 

“Do you have any extra water?” He lifted his head to focus on Shepard. At his question, her eyebrow dropped down into a suspicious yet concerned expression. She reached into her bag and pulled out her canteen, tossing it to him. He practically tore it open and gulped half the bottle in one swallow, but it did little to stop the smoldering under his skin.

“You okay?” she asked, getting up and walking over to him.

“Aren’t you hot?” he asked back, panting now in an effort to cool down. She shook her head, her concern looking louder by the second. She pulled off her gloves and reached towards him. 

“Garrus.” Shepard placed a cool hand on his face. “You’re burning up, even for you. Do you feel okay?”

Truly, he couldn’t tell. All he knew was that her hands on his skin felt like merciful rain in the middle of the hottest desert. The relief at her touch drove him to a place without words. He could see the concern in her face, but he couldn’t form speech. The tips of her fingers just barely grazed the sides of his neck as she dropped her hands and he gasped desperately.

Her eyes went wide. “You’re scaring me. Talk to me. What’s going on?”

He’d certainly like to know that himself. However, neither his brain nor his body was being very helpful at the moment. The only thought and instinct was  _ HER _ .  _ TOUCH. NOW. _

“Please,” he finally managed after thinking about it for several seconds. The word was more subvocals than anything else, he’d be surprised if her translator made sense of it at all. She frowned, obviously not understanding him.

She turned away and opened her omnitool. “Shepard to Normandy, come in Normandy,” she said as she stepped away from him.  _ No no no, please, come back _ . Static was all that came through her comm. She hailed them again and then cursed low under her breath. As if in explanation, thunder rumbled and shook the leaves on the trees.

She was still facing away from him, so Garrus tried again. “...please.”

She spun back around to face him, stepping nearer. But not near enough.

“Please--please what?” Worry filled her voice and she knelt in front of him. “Anything, Garrus. Just… I don’t know what to do.”

He grabbed her hands and pulled them back to his face, sighing as he felt her cool skin on his heated plates. The relief wasn’t as strong this time though, so he pressed her palms against his neck. Being bare hide rather than plates, it was more sensitive, and he shuddered as he was granted a reprieve. Sweet spirits above, that felt better.

“Is this your idea of a joke?” she asked, starting to pull her hands away. “Goddammit, Garrus. You really had me wor--”

“No, no, no!” He clenched her hands in his and didn’t let her pull away. The heat was already rising again, relief wearing off. “Please-- _ Please _ .”

She frowned, the worry returning to her brow. “Please  _ what _ , Garrus? I don’t--what’s happening?”

“I don’t-- I don’t know.” He nuzzled into one of her palms, deeply inhaling her clean scent. “I… I need…” His skin still felt like it was burning, but the crisp smell of her abated a few of the flames while igniting new ones--ones he specifically hadn’t let himself tend. Months of hard work spent specifically finding other ways to reduce stress were burnt to a brittle crisp in a matter of moments. “You.”

“What?”

“You,” he growled, leaning forward and pressing his face to the side of her neck. Her hair brushed against his forehead as he inhaled deeply. That worked even better. Oh Spirits, what was he doing? Why was this what soothed the burn? But he couldn’t stop the actions, much less the words from pouring out of him. 

“Please… please. I _need_ _you_, Shepard,” he begged. Normally, he’d be almost ashamed at the keening timbre to his voice, not to mention the straight up desperation in his subvocals. But he was long, long past having any measure of self-respect. All he knew was the burning, and that Shepard put it out. “Please, Shepard. _Please_.”

But she hesitated. “If you’re sick, we should try to call in the Normandy,” she said, thankfully sounding at least a little conflicted. “L-let Chakwas look at you, or--”

He licked along the small exposed portion of her neck above her armor, savoring the delicate tang of her skin. Her sentence ended in a sharp gasp and she froze. There was a moment where they hovered on the precipice together. If she wasn’t willing, he’d figure out some other form of relief. Even if he had to dunk himself naked in a snowbank, he’d do it. 

“How do you want me?” she whispered, her fingers curling and gripping his neck.

He lifted his head to press his forehead against hers, watching as her pupils dilated. The last remaining vestige of common sense in the far back of his mind warned him that he was heading unexpectedly into unknown territory. He had no experience in these waters, no research, not even a damn anatomical diagram. All he had was Shepard. But he knew with absolute certainty that it would be enough. 

The fires felt like they were still growing stronger. Completely armored as she was, there was very little skin to fight the flames.

“Take your armor off,” he pleaded, leaning back from just enough to give them freedom of motion. He ripped his undersuit off his shoulders and started practically tearing the greaves from his legs. Thankfully, Shepard was even more efficient than he was; she’d completely removed her armor by the time he was done. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto his lap, searching for the zipper on the back of her suit. He found the small tab and tore it down, yanking it off her shoulders and arms, before pressing her upper half against his.

Her skin was so soft, wonderfully cool under his palms and against his carapace. He tucked his face into the crook of her neck again, her scent strongest there. She slipped her arms up around his neck, rubbing soothingly yet enticingly up and down the back.

“Like this?” she asked, sounding unsure. He hummed his very enthusiastic response.  _ Just like that _ . Even with such minimal stimulation, he could already feel a pressure building behind his plates.

She still wasn’t bare, however. There was some sort of tight shirt that only covered her upper half. A quick jerk of his talons and the thin fabric on the shirt split easily. She let out a low hum from the back of her throat as he whipped it off of her. There, now she was at least exposed on her upper half. He had the dim thought that this was the first time he’d ever seen Shepard naked, but it was quickly shoved to the side in favor of action.

His hands instinctively wrapped around her slender waist as his tongue ran against the length of her neck. She exhaled and pressed against him, her soft body moulding against the rigid lines of his torso. He squeezed and his hands roved up and down her waist and hips, looking for more of those soft hums or maybe a gasp. She instead pressed soft kisses along his uninjured mandible. Pleasant, but he was feeling far more desperate than the gentle ministrations could satiate.

He nibbled along her collarbone as his hands slipped up her sides. His thumbs just barely grazed the swells of flesh on her front and-- _ there _ it was. She gasped, arching towards him. He immediately palmed the area and was rewarded with Shepard dropping her head back, exposing the whole length of her neck to him. Spirits above, he could feel his plates jerk at the sight alone. He circled a thumb over her pebbled skin and her hips rocked against his, reminding him suddenly that they were still damnedly clothed on their lower halves. That had to change.

But oh, it was delicious torture, her steady rhythm against his already spread plates, her exhales against his neck. He could smell her own heat rising--earthy and warm and wholly Shepard. But he wanted more--he  _ needed _ more. The fires beneath his skin were still raging, unchecked and unquenched. If anything, they’d just grown stronger.

“Please,” he begged into the skin of her neck, alternating between words and pleading nibbles along the column. “Please, let me have you. Shep--Jane. Please, Jane.”

She stopped moving, the only sound their heavy breathing and the rain outside the cave. She leaned back. For a heart-stopping moment he feared that she would retreat, leave him to be burnt to ash. But before he could speak again, she closed the distance between the two of them, her lips on his mouth. Her tongue gently traced along his mouth-plates and they parted for her. He clutched her flush against him as her tongue stroked his. The action was unfamiliar to him, but electrifying all the same. She let his tongue tangle inelegantly with hers, desperately miming the actions he’d just implored from her.

After a stirring moment, she pulled away from him with a soft exhale. She pressed her forehead to his, meeting his eyes.

“You already have me,” she whispered. And a different fire--different than the one beneath his skin or below his waist; one that had been smoldering for years, through battle and friendship and death itself--finally caught flame. 

He surged forward, pressing her to the ground with his carapace and never looking away from her eyes. He was still being boiled alive, but--she had to know what it meant, what she’d just said. She did, the look in her eyes told him so. He tilted his head to press an unpracticed kiss to her lips. He couldn’t move his mouth plates much, but he gave it his all, flexing to copy her motions, fluttering his mandibles against her cheeks. He felt her smile against him.

“Jane,” he murmured, frowning. Swelling emotions gave him a brief moment of clarity through the burn. “You deserve better than this--this--dirty cave”

She laughed breathlessly. “I was never really one for romance,” she assured him, running a hand over his cheek. “Though next time, a hotel room might be nice.”

“Next time?” he asked, hopefully.

A teasing light appeared in her eyes. “You think you can just fuck me once in a dirty cave and never call me again, Garrus Vakarian?”

Even despite everything, she still got him to laugh. “Next time,” he nodded, caressing his forehead over hers. “Hotel room. I promise.”

“Good.” She looked at him a moment, trickling her fingertips over his neck and cowl tantalizing. “You want to finish this time first?”

“Spirits, yes.” He kissed her again, trying to ignore the shake in his arms that had suddenly started. He sat back, intending to pull--or more likely tear--the rest of her undersuit off. But his fingers kept fumbling with the dark, smooth fabric. He took in a shuddering breath to try and gain some control, but there was none to be found. He must have waited too long, the fire was all-consuming now. He cursed at his hands, and tried again unsuccessfully.

Then Shepard’s hand covered his own and he looked up to meet her concerned face.

“I need--I can’t, but I nee--” he tried to explain. 

She silenced him with another kiss. “Let me help,” she whispered, her lips brushing against his. He nodded rapidly, his subvocals rolling with desperation. She shifted out from under him, matter-of-factly pulling the rest of her suit off. Then she quickly knelt in front of him, searching along his legs for the clasps under his spurs to remove his pants. If he hadn’t been more fire than turian, he might have realized that she must have done some research of her own to know of their existence at all. But right now, he was just grateful to pull away the straining fabric. He let out a sharp sigh, dropping his head back, as his cock was finally freed. It turned into a prolonged groan as he felt Shepard trail her fingers along his length.

“ _ Jane _ ,” he moaned. His eyes drifted open to see her straddle his lap, his erection pinned between them.

“I’m here,” she said, kissing his neck and rocking against him. It was so good, she was  _ so good _ . But not quite--

“Please, I need-- please,” the words babbled up out of him. His desperate subvocals acted as a continuous support under the string of half-coherent pleas and invitations. He needed this Now.

She gently shushed him, pressing another kiss to his open mouth. “I’ve got you,” she whispered as she lifted her hips.

A gutteral sound left him as his tip brushed against her sodden folds. Her fingers brushed him again as she guided him to her entrance and he whimpered. But he was absolutely silent as she sank down onto him, everything else faded away until only the rapid thrumming of his own heartbeat filled his ears. When her hips pressed against his, a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding flooded out of him. Spirits, she was tight and warm and wet and absolutely perfect. 

But he needed to move. This still wasn’t enough. Carefully, he rolled his hips up against hers. She moaned softly and on the second roll, moved to mirror him. She slipped up, almost off of him, and then dropped back down with a swallowed groan. 

Crap, he wasn’t going to last long at all. The heat and the fire and the very presence of Shepard were all drawing him to the edge embarrassingly fast. His talons scraped the cave floor beneath him; he gritted his teeth, distracted himself with anything he could think of. But her soft sighs in his ears, her strong fingers clutching his neck, her smooth skin rubbing against his waist, her wet heat surrounding his length, it all demanded his attention. He caught her eyes as she sunk back down on him--assuring, confident green--and that was it. He slipped off the edge.

All he knew was scorching and raging and… and Shepard. He wasn’t aware of anything but gripping tightly to her, his last bastion of sanity, as the inferno continued around him. And then it was dark.

The first thing he felt was Shepard gently stroking along his fringe. He realized that for the first time in hours, he didn’t feel the heat. He was blissfully, mercifully cool in Shepard’s arms. Maybe she’d let him stay here forever. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head and said something. He didn’t so much hear the words as he felt them resonate through her chest. He focused, trying to parse what she was saying. And after a moment, almost like a light being flicked on, he suddenly did.

“I’ve got you, Garrus,” she said, her lips still pressed against the top of his fringe. Her arms were wrapped around his neck as she cradled his head against her chest. “You’ll be okay. You’re gonna be okay.”

Since he wasn’t burning, he noticed now that her tone wasn’t so much a comfort for him, but a reminder for herself. He could feel the worried tension in her spine. No, he couldn’t stay here forever; Shepard needed him. He inhaled and sat up. Her eyes were wide, wary.

“Garrus?” she breathed.

He looked at her for a few moments. What does a person even say after all that? Finding he had no answer, he settled for, “Hey.”

“Oh, thank god,” she said, dropping her head to his shoulder for a moment and hugging him tightly. He slipped his arms around her and hugged her back. She fit so well right here, he thought, rubbing his cheek over her soft hair.

“What happened?” he asked, more than a little afraid of the answer.

She breathed a half-laugh and met his gaze again. “You… well, you came and then passed out for about two minutes.”

“Spirits.”

She gave him an exasperated look. “Half of me was worried that you’d somehow died, and the other half was a little proud that I could possibly add ‘with my vagina’ to the list of ways I’ve killed people.”

He laughed a little and realized that he was still inside her, and still very much at attention. “Ah,” he said, glancing down to where she was sitting on his lap.

“Yeah, that was my one consolation. I figured if your heart had stopped, you wouldn’t be able to maintain an erection.” She pointedly changed how she was sitting, adjusting how he fit within her. His eyes briefly fluttered shut and his grip on her waist flexed. “Which you definitely have.”

He dropped his head, shame beginning to rise. “Sorry.”

She caught his chin and made him look at her. “Don’t be sorry. Just tell me if you’re okay or not.”

He nodded a little. “I’m better now. At least I’m pretty sure.”

“Good.” Her thumb gently stroked the end of his uninjured mandible. “When we get back to the  _ Normandy, _ Mordin should take a look at you.”

He rolled his eyes. “That sounds like a mortifying conversation.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Mordin or Chakwas, I’ll let you have your pick.”

He thought for a moment. “Mordin, definitely. I want to be able to look Chakwas in the eyes at some point.”

Shepard laughed for real this time and he exhaled as she contracted around him. Spirits, so it wasn’t just the relief from the heat, she actually felt that good. 

Glancing up at her, he nuzzled along her collarbone. “So I may have had the orgasm of a lifetime, but did you…?”

“Ah, no.” Her fingers trailed up to the delicate skin under his fringe and he hissed. “But I was well on the way there, before you experienced  _ la petit mort _ in the most literal sense.”

He chuckled and repeated the motion he’d been making on her collarbone with his tongue. Now that he had full control of his faculties, he was noticing all sorts of new things. As he touched her, small bumps broke out all over her smooth skin. She hummed low in her throat, her eyes drifting shut, as he retraced his steps earlier over the front of her--breasts, he suddenly remembered what they were called. He ducked down and ran his tongue over a breast, paying special attention to the pebbling skin in the middle. Her whole upper body relaxed, almost drooping back into his arms as he continued.

“Mm, don’t stop,” she murmured, her hips starting to roll again. 

“Never,” he promised into her delicate skin. After a moment, she caught one of his hands and brought it down to just over where they were joined. She pressed the pad of his finger to a small raised bundle of flesh. Instantly, she tightened around him. Whatever this little nub was called, it certainly was working for her. He circled his finger over it and she cried out. 

“There, right there,” she said in a breathy voice. She curled in to press her forehead against his neck as they moved as one. With every thrust, a hard pant escaped her. He could see her tension growing along the lines of her shoulders, her spine. 

He wanted this whole--well, he wasn’t exactly sure what just happened, but whatever it was he wanted it to be good for her. She deserved hotel rooms, she deserved wine, she deserved the best weapon mods money could buy--or whatever the hell humans gave as gifts when courting. He had no clue, but he’d find out and give her every last one. But first, he wanted to give her this.

“Garrus,” she huffed, sounding like he’d never heard her sound before. She sounded almost desperate. He doubled down on his ministrations, cupping the back of her head with his other hand.

“I’ve got you, Shepard. I’ll catch you,” he promised, meaning every single word. With a final cry, she suddenly stiffened and shuddered. He groaned as he felt a weaker release than his previous one pulled from him by her contractions. It still left him breathless, but he could focus enough to coax every last bit of her orgasm out of her. 

She relaxed completely against him, her breathing slowing. She sighed softly when he slipped out of her, finally spent. He trailed his fingers up and down her spine, letting his subvocals hum warmly with contentment. They sat there, him holding her, for several minutes in comfortable quiet. Even despite the circumstances, there was something fulfilling about just being with her like this.

“You know, this place isn’t so bad for a dirty cave,” she mused finally.

He chuckled. “It’s definitely better than my first apartment on the Citadel.”

Now she laughed and turned her head to look up at him, a soft smile on her face. She traced her fingers along his colony markings and he nuzzled into her palm, nipping a final kiss to the inside of her wrist. 

She let out a long breath. “We should probably go finish this mission before Joker and EDI get too curious,” she suggested, sounding like she didn’t want to move. He certainly didn’t.

“Probably,” he replied. Reluctantly, they let go of each other and got dressed again--slipping back into their armor and their roles with unwilling ease. She picked up her travel pack, checking her weapons as she waited for him at the entrance.

“You know, I was thinking,” she said when he joined her. “We don’t have to wait for a hotel.”

He looked at her, doing his best to control the anticipation in his voice. “Yeah?”

“I do have a perfectly good cabin and… you could join me there tonight, if you want.”

“Please.”


End file.
